


Six of Swords: Tempered

by lakehastor



Series: Six of Swords [1]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Character Turned Into Vampire, F/F, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multi, Teaser for a longer fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 19:58:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10669722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakehastor/pseuds/lakehastor
Summary: “Such a heartless thing, to steal someone away, and force our world upon them when they are not prepared. Even I know when cruelty must be tempered.”





	Six of Swords: Tempered

**Author's Note:**

> Consider this a trailer or a teaser for something larger. Ask yourself: would you rather know what happened or what will happen?
> 
> [un beta'ed....any volunteers?]

TEMPERED

Darla could smell the sun and salt water before she even opened her eyes. Not that she did. It was far too early to be awake. Instead she took this moment to stretch along the sheets of their king size bed. In her hundreds of years on this earth, she had never let go of her devotion to the finer things in life. Luxuriated in them. If she ever got to heaven--not that she’s aiming for it--she’s sure it would just be this moment played over and over again: this liminal time between awake and dreaming in a large, high thread count bed, with her family by her side. 

It was strange, the bond between her and this new family, so unlike the fangs and fury that kept Angelus by her side for centuries. Ruthless and cruel to the outside world, their violence now was no different, perhaps they were even more sadistic, but between each other, there was a kind of love. A patient understanding so deeply entrenched that it could never be broken or explained. She didn’t even understand it. 

She rolled on to her other side and slowly opened her eyes. Drusilla lay next to her and Darla took a moment to study her once grand childe, now maker. Drusilla rested on her side towards the blonde vampire, her hands tucked peacefully under her head. Darla’s hands slide up to peacefully trace the contours of the other vampire’s face. Even in sleep, the dark haired woman did not look at peace though she was without the vicious insanity that shadowed her during her waking hours. In slumber, she looked like the lost young woman she had once been. Pressing a gentle kiss to her sleeping companion’s forehead, Darla wondered what she dreamt of. Do the insane follow rational paths in their slumber? Or are they doomed to follow the same illogic of their waking hours? It wasn’t often that Darla found herself in such contemplative moods and such deep thoughts had no place in a bed like this.

Slowly sitting up, careful not to disturb her companion, Darla looked to the empty spot in their bed. Their newest sister was not there; had it been her departure from their bed that had awoken Darla? Despite the heavy drawn curtains, Darla could still see the edge of light around the window. With ancient senses, she could tell that the sun was at its most potent--far too dangerous for any vampire to be out hunting. No, their youngest companion was still in the house.

Gently padding across the well-appointed master bedroom, clad only in her underwear, Darla took a moment to indulge in the cashmere carpeting. Yes, their sweet sister had done well in finding--and killing--the owner of this beach house. 

Darla found her in the living room, the curtains flung aside and the wide french doors that led to a balcony were thrown open. 

She sat with her back to her, long dark hair like cape. Her toes were at the very edge of the sunlit square. Beyond her, through the open doors, the waves crashed and glittered on the shore. 

“Cordelia” Darla’s whisper broke the silence.

The young woman slowly turned to face the vampire. She smiled slowly at her companion in the doorway. Cordelia’s eyes were filled with a strange emotion that Darla couldn’t read. 

“Cordelia,” Darla repeated, taking a step towards her “Darling girl, what’s wrong? Come back to bed…”

Still Cordelia just smiled and turned back to her view

But Darla didn’t need words anymore, now she understood. 

“I never would have turned you,” there was no cruelty in Darla’s husky voice. She leaned against the doorframe as she continued, “I never turned anyone who didn’t want to be turned. Yes, even Angel--he pretends the soul has forgotten the truth, but he asked for what I gave him. ”

Moving to sit beside the young woman, she draped her cool arm across her shoulder, pulling her close against her slim breast

“Such a heartless thing, to steal someone away, and force our world upon them when they are not prepared. Even I know when cruelty must be tempered.”

They were silent for awhile, the only sound was the distant crash of waves and a few humans frolicking in the surf. 

“You miss it don’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Darla didn’t expect an answer. 

Darla stroked the young vampire’s hair, the silken strands slipped between her fingers. 

She thought of the night Drusilla had come to her in Los Angeles with blood soaked tears in her eyes. She’d been begging, pleading, whipped into a frantic madness then--wailing for her sister. They’d stolen their jewel from Angelus’s angry grasp. 

“What kind of vampire misses the sun?” Cordelia finally said, a small hollow laugh in her voice to hide her emotions. She turned now, facing back towards the crashing waves. 

“I never did.” Darla turned Cordelia to face her, “Not really. Perhaps because I had always belonged to the night. Even in life, I was never welcome in the sun. I never longed for it.” 

As if reading Cordelia’s thoughts, Darla continued in uncharacteristic kindness

“It doesn’t make you weak, this longing. Desire makes you strong if you know how to use it.” 

The first night they’d hunted as a pack, not just stolen lives in the dark, but really stretched their claws, had been true pandemonium. Darla had been impressed by her youngest companion’s ferocity--for Cordelia had been an apt student. Blood soaked, she’d screamed like a valkyrie as she slaughtered her way through a hapless bar. 

“I had a vision.” Cordelia pulled out of Darla’s embrace and stared ahead at the forbidden sun. 

Darla said nothing, just waited. Cordelia’s visions differed greatly from Drusilla’s vague and cryptic ramblings. Cordelia rarely had visions anymore, and when she did, she still obeyed them without question. 

“I have to go… I have to go, somewhere you cannot follow.”

Now it was Darla’s turn to be silent. She sat shoulder to shoulder with the dark haired beauty. And she waited for the sun to set, knowing it would be the last night for their little trio.


End file.
